Kopf's Story Book 6
[[Kopf%27s_Story|'Kopf's Story']] :- ''by Kopfjagger and Lucia Compromises She pressed the blades tighter around his neck and then turned back to the Night Elf. He had resumed an offensive stance and looked to be ready to cast again. "I'm warning you Night Elf," Lucia spoke in low tones, trying hard to not let her anger show. She was failing. The air crackled and began to heat around her. "Do not take action against this rogue!" She could not keep the heat out of her voice and the air around her sizzled with the heat of escaped magic. "I do not want to kill you, she continued. But nothing will stop me from learning what I need to know. You threaten the Undead. I threaten you. Stand down." "I am sorry m'lady. I can not allow you to stay here with this evil being alone." His voice was calm but he was beginning to wonder what under blue skies she was trying to accomplish here. "I can cause you great pain, if not kill you," she said brokenly. Tears filled her eyes, "This business is my own, why do you linger? Just leave us! She tried to pull herself together. Her moods were swinging back and forth wildly. It was strange for her to be so out of control. Strength was a part of her but now she was so emotionally distraught that her strength did not know how or where to manifest itself. She steeled her nerve and looked directly into the eyes of the Druid. "The rogue is not going anywhere right now." She pointed at the swords pinning him down. "I am safe enough." She stepped closer to the Elf, leaving the blades untended. Please," she implored, mood switching back to sadness, "just leave us." It was then that the smell of burning, rotted flesh struck her. Her eyes fell upon the rogues glowing yellow eyes. She watched him trace his finger across the fire-sheathed sword. The smile that lit his eyes was unmistakable. And then his neck was laid bare and began to slide up the blades, pushing his flesh against their razors. The stink was nearly as bad as the sight of his glowing eyes fixed so firmly to hers mocking hers. He had called her bluff and she had no idea how to get out of it. She could not let him die. She could not let the druid kill him. She could not kill the druid. She could not free the Forsaken because he was the key to her husband, family and hope. By the time spring came and he was needed back home, his body was a mess. He had been abused and used several more times during that harsh winter as a night-watchman. The silvers he earned had saved the lives of his family and for that, every scratch and bruise was worth it. When he walked into his house for the first time in months, he was greeted with the rewards of his effort. Colorful paper chains were strung everywhere, his children grabbed onto his legs and his bride smothered him in kisses. The smell of meat stew hung thick in the air but was overpowered by the love that filled every nook in that small, simple little home. Her eyes continued to widen as the pale neck slid up the blades. The twin blades began to sink into the rotted, tender flesh of his neck. Glowing eyes challenged and mocked as the blades bit deeper. Finally she sprinted back to the pommels and tore the blades apart, freeing him. Her indecision ended at the thought of losing the information she needed. The wicked grin under the singed mask was blatant. The Druid took a single step backwards and readied himself, but made no other move. Kopfjagger stood and leisurely cracked the bones in his neck. This was beginning to resemble fun, but everything comes to an end. He stretched his back and let his gaze lazily roll over the trembling human and his two swords that had been flung onto the ground. The bloody note was hanging loosely in Lucias grip, squished deep into her hand from grabbing the blades in such a hurry. Once his eyes landed on the paper, she pushed in front of him again. She gestured and gesticulated that she wanted him to show her where he had found them. He understood this fairly quickly, but was honestly having fun. He was enjoying watching her try to make that point clear over and over again, in more and more inventive and creative ways. She really was quite something, this little kibble of a human. Eventually he realized that she would not tolerate him playing stupid for much longer. He nodded his head and pointed to the distance. Perhaps proper nouns could transcend the language barrier. "Loreadon," he said. She paled at the mention of the name. Clearly, she understood. That is where he had found her paper kisses and where he had encountered her husband. Everything in her being rebelled against her. It was too far. Her children would need her. That place is over run with these Forsaken. She would surely die. She could not leave her children without a single parent. She glared at the undead, stretching before her. Slowly her thoughts settled. She had to know. Her children had to know. Kopfjagger motioned for her to follow and took a few steps in that direction before stopping and turning back to her. He pointed to his swords and then to himself. He held out his hands, a smile spreading across his face. She took a step to follow but stopped dead again when he motioned for the swords. It was bad enough that she had just agreed oh Light, what did she just agree to! But to hand over both swords? He's mad, she thought, if he thinks I'll disarm myself while I'm with him. But as a small gesture of faith, she would hand him one sword and keep the other. She raised her eyebrow and smirked back at him as she offered one of the twins. There, the boundaries were set, she would follow him to where she needed to go, but she wouldn't completely give in to everything he wanted. She nodded sharply as he took the one sword. Why was he laughing like that? A small foot stomped the ground as the Forsaken turned his back on her and began walking away, still laughing. ((This part of the story was written in partnership by Kopfjagger and Lucia. I have the honor of retelling it but at least half, if not more, of the creative power comes directly from Lucia even though her name does not appear to the left of the post. *bows deeply to Lucia* Thank you, Lucia, for letting me retell our story, I hope to do it justice.)) A Walk The human woman had smirked as she handed over one of the two swords that Kopfjagger needed to protect her with. Had he not helped bring her son's spirit back to his already cold body? Had he not debased himself to the point of pleading to a Night Elf for help? A NIGHT ELF?! It was too much and he just laughed in the face of it all. Once he started, he could not stop. It was all so very ridiculous and yet wonderful at the same time. His laugh was loud and deep, echoing in his hollow chest and rolling freely across the sun-hardened earth. Turning to look back at this remarkable woman, Kopfjagger shook his head as is to say, "what have you gotten me into, woman," as only a good head shaking will do. This was very much the male equivalent of the female hair tossing that equates to, "I so don't have time to bother with you right now, please leave." The glare he received back from Lucia made stifle his laughter. Well, he tried at least. He made sure his mask and hood were covering as much of his tattered face as he could manage. He tested the weight of his sword to distract himself and his laughter was gone. One sword was better than none, but he was comfortable with both. Wielding only one of the twins was tantamount to strapping yourself to the bottom of a horse rather than riding in the saddle. He pulled out a throwing dagger from the bandolier across his waist and spun it on top of his knuckles and across the palm of his left hand. The rogue gripped the dagger, disbelieving grin firmly in place, and pointed down to the South. It would be much faster to head south to Grom Gol and take that infernal contraption the goblins call a Zeppelin to the Undercity than to try the entire distance on foot. Lucia watched the dagger dance in the undead's hands and wondered again what she was doing. With a sigh she placed the remaining sword back in its sheath at her waist and groaned. She was un-balanced now; the other blade had acted as a counter-weight. She struggled with it for a second then gave up. She'd deal with it later, she wasn't about to let the undead know it was a burden. He knew that south was the wrong direction, but if she was going to trust him, and she would have to if she wanted to live to see his capital, now was as good as any time to start. He started to walk, not wanting to look back. Secretly, he wanted her to join him but he was not sure if he could keep her alive in the heart of Horde territory. The Druid was her problem. If the druid came along with them, it was just one more person he would have to protect himself and perhaps even her from. His head shook with the clarity of being a fel-blinded fool yet his feet continued to lead him south. Words were being exchanged behind him. Apparently, the druid was trying to tag along. He shook his head again and then stopped. No, he thought to himself. This was not Head Hunters tour of the Horde. Turning, he looked over at the two grunted at the human. When she turned he held up three fingers and shook his head. Then he lowered one and nodded. If she didnt trust him fully, there was no way in fel that he was going to bring along another spell slinging member of the Alliance. A green glow surrounded Lucia and then the Druid bowed, turned, and walked away. Lucia offered a curtsey in return and then had to attempt a jog to catch up to where the Forsaken stood waiting for her. The sword swaying awkwardly at her side slowed her down and nearly caused her to stumble more than once. His grin slid back into place under his mask. The Forsaken had never really appreciated the value of a good mask until now. Once she was by his side, they began walking south together. They tried to take walks together whenever they could. Their small farm was enough to keep them busy most of the time, but they managed to get out together on Sundays if not more frequently. He enjoyed their walks in the woods and fields around their simple home. They became a part of him and of the us that he and his bride were together. They would walk past a tree or bush that held particularly fond memories and both would blush and snuggle as they walked on. Sometimes they would christen a new tree or shrub for more fond memories for their next walk. But it was the silence that he enjoyed. Just being with her was a reward beyond his merits. For no particular reason, he turned to her, wrapped his thick arms around her slender waist and kissed her gently. Lucia skipped a bit to catch up and semi-tapped the Head Hunter on the shoulder. She pointed to herself. "Lucia," she said slowly and clearly. If she was going to travel with him, she wasn't going to keep calling him "the Undead" and "Rogue". What a strange pair they made, she pondered. She considered how the ones they might run in to would take such a sight; a human and an undead. She hoped deep down that this undead she was placing so much hope in had an idea of how to handle such encounters. She herself had no idea. Hope and need may very well fall short if the wrong sorts of people found them together. She tripped slightly from the sword that had slipped down off her waist while lost in her thoughts. Stupid, too-big, heavy thing, she cursed to herself as she tried to adjust it back around her waist. Kopfjagger snickered at the mage, burdened by *his* sword made an attempt to tell him her name. He pointed at himself. The pointed at his head and then made a gesture of a hunter using a bow. "Head Hunter" he said, "Kopfjagger." Maybe she would get it. Maybe she wouldn't but he was pretty sure that he could say her name. He practiced her name until she nodded that he got it right while they walked next to the road leading south. He did not want to take the main roads because no matter who they came upon, it was going to be an enemy of one of them. ((This part of the story was written in partnership by Kopfjagger and Lucia. I have the honor of retelling it but at least half, if not more, of the creative power comes directly from Lucia even though her name does not appear to the left of the post. *bows deeply to Lucia* Thank you, Lucia, for letting me retell our story, I hope to do it justice.)) Fresh Grass As if summoned by his thoughts, sound not normally heard in the woods caught his ear. His first instinct was to stealth, but that would leave her vulnerable. He silently withdrew his flaming sword and small dagger. His shoulders hunched over as he scanned the area where the sound he heard. Through the trees and scrub he caught the glint of metal and heard the rattle of loose chain armor. Someone was being careless and it probably just saved the life of his traveling companion and himself. He cursed silently at his inability to stealth, for that sole reason that it would leave this admittedly attractive female alone in the woods. Trusting one human did mean that all were now on his Father Winter card list. Acting quickly, he threw both of his blades into the dirt and leapt in front of Lucia. He pulled the sword out of her scabbard and quickly forced her blade into the small of his back and shoved the hilt towards her. While he was convincing her to put the blade in his back, he swept forest debris over his two weapons lying useless in the dirt. Lucia was startled when the rogue.... No, she shook her head Kopifhagged, no. umm. She struggled with the name; Kopfjagger thrust the sword hilt into her hands. She tried to draw it back but he again lifted the blade up until the point was at his back. At first she had no idea what he was trying to accomplish, but then she heard the noise from the patrol. Her motions became stiff with a tingling of fears cold fingers. He faced the oncoming patrol and leaned back, trying to feel if the blade was in his back. He made a soothing noise to Lucia that sounded like a 'shhhhh' and he placed his hands behind his back, hanging his head as if defeated. The hissing noise that Lucia heard made her think of a trapped snake trying to escape. Lucia knew she looked ridiculous. There she was, in the middle of a wood, holding a giant flaming sword on an undead. She frantically wondered what Kopfjagger was going to do if the patrol saw them and decided to assist her in killing this undead. The sword was fast becoming heavy, her arms began to ache. Part of her, her element of pride, told her to bear with it and not show weakness to her odd companion. The practical part of her realized how foolish that would be if they both died because she was stubborn. She began to think. She couldnt hold the sword on him indefinitely and by the time the patrol hit their position, her hands would be shaking. The patrol was now making more noise as they cursed and hacked their way through the underbrush, heading in the general direction of the bewildered mage and the tense rogue. Something was going to happen any second and whatever it was, it was not going to be small. Hes not going to like this, she thought to herself. There was no other choice in her mind and so, what must be done, must be done. Picturing the worst when the effect wore off, Lucia cast her spell on the Forsaken she had placed her trust in. She dropped the sword in the bush, hoping it wouldnt be seen and picked up a long stick from the side of the road. Now when the patrol passed by, all they would see would be a young woman herding a sheep back to where it belonged. She hoped the glamour would hold until the men passed. She grimaced. No, he was not going to be happy with her when he got his true form back. As Kopfjagger leaned into the blade that the human woman was supposed to be holding to his back, he was stunned at how huge everything had become. The ferns and trees all soared above him, he found himself walking on his hands and.... oh for the love of the Dark Queen, she didn't. Um.... grass is really pretty yummy. No. She did not, he thought again to himself. Oh, there's a fresh patch of long, dew-laden grass right over here. He tried to say 'Yippee' with the joy and abandon of a child skipping off to play, but it came out Baaah-ahhh. There was some commotion in the woods, but the grass was yummy and just the right sort of wet. There were feet near him and some shiny stuff on the ground but the grass was close and just the right amount of wet. He could hear shouting and there were some banging type noises, but the grass was soooo yummy, and just the right amount of wet. Oh look, shoes.... nibble .... no, the grass is much better and it's just the right amount of wet. Baaaah-aaah. The patrol had come close enough to spot her and called out that they were looking for a Forsaken. Her response had been quite simple. None here but if one is nearby, she would be heading home now, thank you very much. Apparently, there was a little arguing between the men about how the Forsaken was with a human of her description. In short, however, the men really just wanted to get back to their post and so left without much persuasion. She knew he would be himself any second now and he was most likely going to be either highly amused or ready to kill her. She winced. He was so hard to read. She wished she could get a better handle on his actions. It was hard to figure out what he was thinking. Suddenly, instead of a sheep, there was an Undead, on his hands and knees ready to take another bite of grass. She gulped and braced herself. When he turned to look at her, she smiled at him and gave a little wave. Kopfjagger found himself on his hands and knees, suddenly very aware that he was a Forsaken Rogue. He was an assassin for the Dark Lady. He was the taker of souls. He was, by fel, the Head Hunter and yet he had a mouth full of grass and the distinct memory of it being one of the most pleasant experiences of his life. He rose slowly and turned to survey the surrounding woods for the patrol that had passed nearby. Hearing and seeing nothing out of the ordinary he reached into his mouth and slowly removed the grass. He wanted to spit it out and remove his own tongue, but decided that it would be too difficult to put back and undignified. One by one, he plucked the grass from his mouth and let each blade fall to the ground as he eyed the mage. He stared long and hard at the mage that had transformed him from an assassin to a barnyard animal. His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. There were better ways to have done this. His plan would have been fine if the woman only knew how to wield a sword. When Kopfjagger stood and turned to her, Lucia nervously shuffled. She wanted to babble all the reasons her 'sheeping' had been a good idea, but before she could open her mouth he bent down and retrieved the sword she had tossed in the bush. He slowly picked the weapon up off of the ground and placed it back in her hand. Without a word, he showed her how to wrap her fingers around it, how to hold her wrist, how to raise and lower the weapon. He taught her the very basics of wielding a sword and did nothing else until he was sure that she could use it without hurting herself or looking the fool. Perhaps this would keep her from resorting to having to "sheep" the Dark Lady's soul-stealer. Once he was confident that she knew how to hold a sword he simply turned and began the walk south again. He walked slowly at first, until he heard her footsteps behind him, then he lengthened his stride to get to his home as quickly as possible. She fell in behind him, counting her lucky stars that he could control his temper. Lucia would hate to be on the wrong side of that when it was released. She grinned at his back. He really turned out to be a cute sheep. And THAT was something she would never tell him! Attempting to control her mirth, she followed him to where ever he was leading her. ((This part of the story was written in partnership by Kopfjagger and Lucia. I have the honor of retelling it but at least half, if not more, of the creative power comes directly from Lucia even though her name does not appear to the left of the post. *bows deeply to Lucia* Thank you, Lucia, for letting me retell our story, I hope to do it justice.)) Alone Together He couldn't contain his mutters completely as they walked through the woods. He knew she was back there and he could practically hear her skipping. Oh the grotesqueness of it all nearly sickened him but all he could manage was a deep, releasing sigh every thirty seconds or so. He was, sincerely, trying to get over having recently recovered from being a barnyard animal. The time passed fairly quickly as they made their way through the back country towards Grom Gol. They avoided the roads and humans in an attempt to keep the Rogue from killing that which he was escorting. At least, that's what he kept telling himself. He wasn't sure if he could be a sheep again and let the woman live to tell the tale. This highly unusual group was at the river that would take them to Grom Gol and Kopfjagger waded into the water, ready for the long, slow swim south. He turned to look back at the mage, curious to see if she would get in the water, follow along the bank or decide that the water would make her hair go flat and that was simply unacceptable. He patted the top of the water a few times and smiled as sweet as his rotted face would allow. Lucia had trotted behind Kopfjagger, head down lost in thoughts. She almost didn't see the water until it was too late. She stopped with her toes at the waters edge. The rogue was already in the water, waiting for her to follow. The little pat on the water and the grin did little to entice her into the water. She frowned. Fist on hips, lips knotted up and eyebrows furrowed. This was no ordinary frown, this was a full-body frown. He could sense the Harumph even through he could not hear it. Kopfjagger stood waist deep in the water, watching the human woman pout. Yep, he thought to himself. Flat hair is the bane of all womanhood. The he watched her look around, searching. She turned and made her way to a log nestled against the shore. She tugged and pulled it free and pushed it into the water. She removed the sword and her pack and placed them on the wooden float. With embarrassed gestures she told the undead to turn his back. There was no way she could swim any distance with her robes weighing her down. That and the fact that these were her only clothes, and she didn't relish a night in wet cloth. The undead might not mind soggy fabric but she certainly did. To the Head Hunter, the woman did the most curious thing. She turned a different color and made motions for him to go away. No, not go away, just turn around. Okay, he thought to himself. I shall let you think that I am not looking. A rogue is a rogue, after all. As he turned, he pulled out his dagger and used it as a mirror to watch her undress. Blast, he thought to himself. How many layers does a woman wear under her robes anyway? It had been an eternity since he had seen a woman. Since he had *really* seen a woman. And it looks as if it shall be another eternity. Deep down, somewhere beneath the rotting bones and twisted flesh, he was still a man. Kopfjagger was not lusting after Lucia. He was admiring her. There was no hunger, but admiration. Beauty is often mistaken for weakness, but she was by far the strongest woman he had met. He looked at her as a man does a woman, but his heart is what was did the looking. Standing toe to toe, cheek to cheek, they slowly began to undress each other. Nervous was an understatement for these two newlyweds had yet to even kiss and now they were to consummate their marriage. The brides hand made dress contained a myriad of ties, buttons and other obstacles and hands made clumsy by nervousness tired to unfasten as gently as possible. Hearts were pounding, chests were heaving and loving hearts slowly melted into a single lovers liquid shape. In Lucias mind, he complied and she removed her outer layer and stuffed them into the pack on the log. She entered the water, the chill causing her skin to prickle and break out in bumps. She began to warm as her muscles worked in the water. Swimming behind him, keeping one hand on the water-choked wood she wondered faintly what on Azeroth she was doing swimming almost naked, freezing and blind to her destination. She managed to get her gear and most of herself onto the log and began paddling down stream. The Head Hunter was used to such exercises and his muscles never really tired. He assumed that tired was only in his mind now and that he was not fully able to separate his un-feeling body from when his mind told him it was time to stop. Several long minutes went by as they slowly made their way down stream. Lucia decided that even though the company was un-usual, that did not mean she was not going to make an attempt to learn something from him, and she always did have a thing for languages. The woman to Kopfjaggers side began to make strange sounds at him. She was trying to talk to him again. He did his best to mimic the sounds and after a while he thought he was getting quite good at it. Her reaction told him otherwise however. She really tried not to laugh when he called her a cow, but she couldnt help it. He tired a few words in his language on her and it seemed to have been met with similar disaster. It was a long swim yet as the sun was beginning to set but some progress was being made. Her frowns were being replaced with smiles and she was saying the words the he was trying to teach her without calling him "Leaf-foot" in the process. She grinned at him and decided to give her brain and his tongue a break for the moment. His words were barely pronounceable, it was all so hard to grasp. He noticed that she was turning colors again.... a most curious thing that he forgot the living has a tendency to do. This time, rather than a deeper pink or red, she was turning blue and beginning to shake. It must be the water and it was getting darker by the minute. They made good time and where well on their way to Grom Gol, but they would have to stop now. He motioned over to the bank and helped her push her log over to the side of the river. He was hoping to get another glimpse of her as she got herself out of the water. The grin he had on his face must have been very noticeable based on her reaction when she looked at him. It didnt dawn on her right away but when he began grinning at her in that way she suddenly realized. She was in her under things! She shrieked and shoved him with all of her might. He fell back into the brush and she dashed for her robes, not bothering with anything else and made for cover. Kopfjagger came out of the bushes he was summarily thrust into with a grin still upon his face. She was amazingly beautiful, but he was not lusting after her as she may have thought. He tried to make an innocent smile, but realized that it must have looked mocking on his rotted face. Blast him, she fumed as she yanked the robe over her head and fastened the small pearl buttons lined up in the front, he could have the decency to look away! Sufficiently covered, albeit a still a little undressed in her mind with only the robe covering her, she came back to the shore. He had silently set up a small campsite a bit back from the water. A small fire was blazing and there sat an undead rogue. His face hidden, but she knew that he was smiling. She just knew he was. She could tell by the smug way he prodded the fire with the stick in his hands. When she approached he smirked at her. She glared back. Her face immediately became an annoying shade of red that she wished she could make go away. Resigned to being chuckled at, she sat as close to the fire as she could and rubbed her arms and legs to get warm. She was tired and sore from swimming and hungry. The past few days and nights had been rough on her, both emotionally and physically. Being a mother required strength, yes, but being out here was different, harder, more demanding of her. She squiggled closer to the flames and attempted to get some rest. The Forsaken rogue took a long, deep breath and released it in a drawn out sigh. What an incredibly long ordeal, he thought to himself. He watched her sleep until the small fire was reduced to red cinders. Quietly, he rose to his feet and gingerly crept past the sleeping mage. He returned a few minutes later with two rabbits and some herbs he found along the bank. His cooking was not what it once was, but he had learned a great deal since awakening into this nightmare. Well prepared food helped him regain the strength in his rotted flesh much faster than eating bark and, he shivered, grass. He kept the coals hot until the sun began to peak above the horizon. Once the sky turned from purple to dark blue, he stoked the fire back up to a small blaze and began to cook the rabbit. He carefully coated the fresh game with the herbs while rotating it on the make-shift spit. A little more Mageroyal here.... some deep-sea salt here.... yes.... that smelled about right now. As he waited for the mage to awaken to the smell of fresh food, he took another moment to look at her as a woman. He realized that there was no possible way of ever meaning anything to this woman, but he allowed himself to wonder, "What if...." until she woke. Without realizing, he had loosened the iron bindings that held his heart in darkness. The smell of herbs and spices mingling in the morning finally woke her. The thought of eating made her stomach growl. If it smelled and looked that good then surely it was safe to eat, she thought. When the rabbit was ready, she took it off the spit, shaking her fingers and licking off the juices. She picked off the meat and savored it. It was indeed very good! He watched her eat in silence and raised his hand in a passing motion when she offered him some of the rabbit. He had not suffered any wounds and thus did not need to eat yet. He enjoyed watching her scarf down the food that he had prepared for her. She seemed to be enjoying it and that.... gladdened him. When she was done her portion of the meal she picked up her pack and made ready to begin traveling again. Oddly, sharing a meal with him, made the undead seem more acceptable, almost normal. At that moment she realized she trusted him, something she swore she wouldn't do. She had eaten food he had prepared, slept at his side and hadn't thought twice about it. No dark thoughts of poison or never waking up had crossed her mind. His habits were becoming familiar to her, the way he moved, the way his emotions showed by subtle means. She was startled by this discovery. Indeed she was also quite curious to know more about him. Buoyed by these new thoughts, she again waited for him to take the lead. ((This part of the story was written in partnership by Kopfjagger and Lucia. I have the honor of retelling it but at least half, if not more, of the creative power comes directly from Lucia even though her name does not appear to the left of the post. *bows deeply to Lucia* Thank you, Lucia, for letting me retell our story, I hope to do it justice.)) End of Kopf's Story Book 6 [<---Book 5] [[Kopf%27s_Story_Book_7|[Book 7--->]]] Category:Story